


A Hunter's Comfort

by PhantomWarrior99



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Uldren Sov only tagged because not sure if that Crow tag is accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWarrior99/pseuds/PhantomWarrior99
Summary: He was bound to ask and he deserves to know.
Relationships: The Crow / Female Guardian, The Crow / Guardian, The Crow / The Young Wolf
Kudos: 15





	A Hunter's Comfort

On some level, he has to know. There's no way he couldn't with all the beatings he's taken. He had to know why they killed him.

She knew this. She knew he'd suspect and one day, he'd ask but the question catches her off guard all the same.

"Why don't you hate me, Guardian?"

It comes so suddenly. So raw, so _desperate_ that she nearly fumbles the hand canon she's cleaning when the inquiry fully registers. Her eyes dart to his features, or at least, the emotionless exterior of his mask. His eyes aren't trained on her, but on the ground before him.

He seems to note her lack of response and repeats the question, this time making direct eye contact with her, "Why don't you hate me?"

Her Ghost materializes beside her to try and intercede, "What do you mean—“

"It's a simple question." He returns, studying her features cautiously. "With everything I've done, how can you stand to look at me? How can you care? I—“ he lowers his voice, head shifting back and forth as if sorting through his thoughts. "In my past life, I killed the Hunters' Vanguard - _your_ friend. Your cloak matches the insignia on that gun you're holding," he nods to the Ace of Spades in her lap. "The gun was his, I remember holding it, I—“

She's on her feet in an instant, weapon lain out on the bench as she takes him by the collar of his over shirt and presses him firmly against the wall behind him. There is no malice in her eyes as they seek out the aching sunset in his eyes, but rather they seek to calm, to soothe the storm that wells with panic and fear.

She is so close to him, her chest plate pressed against his and she waits. He seems to understand as he nods slowly, taking a deep breath to ground himself and only then does her vice grip on his shirt ease. She gently cradles his jaw, tilting her head sympathetically and the fight drains from the panicked Hunter. His head sags into her touch as his arms hang uselessly at his sides.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, gaze distant and ashamed until she lifts his head slightly, shaking her head firmly. He stiffens when she pulls him in for firm embrace, arching up onto the balls of her feet to pull him down. His hands settle uncertainly on her back, tentatively returning her hug.

It's only after she gives him a pointed squeeze that he truly relaxes and the tension ebbs from his frame. He gives her a cautious squeeze back and the pat between his shoulder blades is one of approval.

They stay there for a long moment, the Young Wolf soothing his anxiety and he, albeit desperately, clinging to her frame. The HELM is relatively empty and even if it weren't, no one would question her - not if they valued their life. It was no secret amongst Guardians that she was particularly fond of the newest Lightbearer and she didn't entertain even the slightest of jabs at or regarding Crow.

In any respect that matters, he has her full protection and loyalty.

_Perhaps, he should know that_. She muses, giving him the gentlest of squeezes as he readjusts his hold, winding his arms completely around her and clutching her close.

"Crow," she whispers softly and he stiffens at the sound of her voice - something he's never heard before, "I don't hate you because...you're not him. Uldren Sov is dead, you are not. Remember that, and if the memories become too much - I'm here."

His mask presses against the crook of her neck as she rubs the hood over his head gently, pressing a soft kiss into the fabric as she murmurs.

"I'm here, Little Light, always."

\---------------------


End file.
